I remember feeling that way long ago back in 1987 when I first read IT. But after reading many, many other Stephen King novels, I feel like this is his way. And it's no longer surprising to me that he often leans towards SciFi-ish stuff. That ending left more open for later novels, and it really made sense to me, after some years of thought. But I get where you're coming from. And I agree with Autumn - I could read about those characters everyday and not get bored. Loved them all.

I still found it a bit lame. Loved getting to that point, though, and also what followed. Playing with spoilertags is fun, too...

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Different strokes for different folks I guess. What, pray tell, would you have had It be in the final confrontation? Since you don't comment on the Deadlights or the Turtle, I take it you don't have a problem with the cosmic scale of things. It sounds like you just aren't scared of the final physical form the monster takes. Or is it the entire metaphysical aspect of the story that seems "lame" to you? I am not attacking you personally. Rather, I am seeking clarification. A critique should be specific and supported. There is a difference between a critique and a heckle. A critic states his/her opinion and supports it. A heckler just shouts insults from the cheap seats. Saying it is "lame" doesn't tell us anything other than you didn't like it. If you don't have anything to support why you don't like that ending, can you tell us why we should consider you important enough that your preference matters?

I often come off hard on critics. This isn't a defensive or knee-jerk response. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but I think if you take the time to show us the "color of your thoughts" as Sai King would say, there should be some meat and potatoes to them. Critics must stand ready to get a critique or two themselves. We live by the commentary and die by the commentary. For my own part, I loved every part of the novel. It is an uplifting story which reintroduces the reader to childhood in a very visceral and honest way. The cosmic aspect of the tale had to be in there. Sai King has never taken the easy way out. He shows you the monster behind the door. Some authors merely let you hear it scratching and howling beyond (the easy way out), some crack the door just enough to give you a peek (a little bolder), and some fling that door open wide. Even if you personally just don't find the final, physical form that scary, you have to respect the sincerity and courage in the writing.

It is perhaps easier to explain what I mean by saying what it isn't (or what it appeared to me that it wasn't).

It never struck me as horrifying. It was malicious, murderous, and generally ill-disposed to us ordinary folks, but I never found it even slightly horrifying (as opposed to the horrific drain-dwelling manifestation as embodied on screen by Tim Curry) perhaps because, as delivered on the page, it was altogether too

alien

and remote for me to identify with it as a threat. There seemed to be an absence of physicality in the final manifestation, which meant that it wan't visceral.

I had a similar reaction to the ending of Needful Things, but as the years have passed, I feel differently. To me, reading a SK novel is like going on a journey. I let Mr. King be my tour guide, and go wherever he takes me

Its been a long long time since I've read IT but I remember thinking of IT as being like a shape-changing Lovecraftian Old One and I totally accepted IT's evil without question in all its forms. What I can't remember is...

The first time I read IT I had the same reaction and was massively dissapointed. So I never read IT again until last year. Maybe I'm a bit more mature and have more experience with different sorts of ideas. But it came to me that the end was a manifestation of everyones fears. A very Lovecraftian Old One.

Different strokes for different folks I guess. What, pray tell, would you have had It be in the final confrontation? Since you don't comment on the Deadlights or the Turtle, I take it you don't have a problem with the cosmic scale of things. It sounds like you just aren't scared of the final physical form the monster takes. Or is it the entire metaphysical aspect of the story that seems "lame" to you? I am not attacking you personally. Rather, I am seeking clarification. A critique should be specific and supported. There is a difference between a critique and a heckle. A critic states his/her opinion and supports it. A heckler just shouts insults from the cheap seats. Saying it is "lame" doesn't tell us anything other than you didn't like it. If you don't have anything to support why you don't like that ending, can you tell us why we should consider you important enough that your preference matters.

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No doubt the time that hecklers will spend in Clive Barker's charnel house will be a lengthy one.

you tell us why we should consider you important enough that your preference matters?

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I missed this. "Important" is a difficult one to justify, and I had no idea I would ever be called to account as regards my importance. I suppose I'm not important at all, although my family, friends, work colleagues and various others might disagree to greater or lesser extents. How do you measure importance? If you measure it by what you leave behind, I will leave 2 kids who have grown up into fine adults, assorted fiction (none published), assorted plays (3 performed), assorted paintings and drawings (some of which hang on walls), assorted songs (some of which are tolerable demos). The paintings are amateurish, the writing and songs (though not my performance of the latter) are sometimes quite good. I've done a bit of charitable work here and there - both work-wise (audit/accounts for various local charities on a pro-bono basis) and on stage (fund raisers for local theatre, medical charity etc.) Oh - and, I hope, I will leave happy memories with those who know me.

But I haven't affected global economies or committed mass murders or sold out worldwide concert tours or discovered a cure for the common cold so I guess, in the overall scheme of things, I'm forced to admit that I am, indeed, not important at all. Any more than any of us is.